We want to decipher skies and paintings, go behind these starry backgrounds or these painted canvases and, like kids trying to find a gap in a fence, try to look through the cracks in the world.

Naturally, love's the most distant possibility.

Not every woman is a prostitute, but prostitution is the natural apotheosis of the feminine attitude.

A judgment about life has no meaning except the truth of the one who speaks last, and the mind is at ease only at the moment when everyone is shouting at once and no one can hear a thing.

But a sort of rupture-in anguish-leaves us at the limit of tears: in such a case we lose ourselves, we forget ourselves and communicate with an elusive beyond.

The emotional element which gives an obsessive value to communal existence is death.

It is clear that the world is purely parodic, that each thing seen is the parody of another, or is the same thing in a deceptive form.